Secrets
by The All Real Numbers Symbol
Summary: It was no use. England would hate him forever for this. He cursed the START treaty, and he cursed this revealing of secrets. Current Events Oneshot.


**Secrets**

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**Summary**: It was no use. England would hate him forever for this. He cursed the START treaty, and he cursed this revealing of secrets. Current events oneshot.

**Genre**: Drama

**Rating**: T

**Disclaimer:** I have nothing witty to put here tonight. I don't own Hetalia.

**[A/N:]** Once again, I have made certain that this story abides by FFN guidelines. Human and country names are used interchangably, just so you know.

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Alfred F. Jones, personification of the United States of America, had access to a lot of things that normal people just didn't have. The right to hold the original Constitution, both in 1776 and now, now that no one else was allowed to touch it? Yes. The right to ask where the president was and have it told him at any time? Yes. The right to access all manner of government buildings whenever he wanted? Yes.

And it was the final one he appreciated the most tonight, as he burst into the White House and ran down the halls, desperate to stop POTUS before it was too late.

Two secret service agents saw him run by. The one made a move like he was going to stop Alfred, but the other grabbed his arm. "It's just Jones. Let him be."

Alfred stopped, backtracked, and grabbed the one man, hauling him up to the nation's eye level. "Where is the president?"

"What?"

"Where is he?" Alfred asked urgently. Time was running out, hurry…hurry…

"Um, I believe he is still finishing up in the Oval Off-" The words weren't out of the man's mouth before Alfred threw him back down and turned.

"Thanks!" Alfred called back over his shoulder as he rounded a turn in the hall and vanished.

The two agents looked on after him. "Maybe we shoulda stopped him." The other agent said.

_I have to stop this I have to stop this I have to stop this…_ the same five words repeated in America's head over and over, pounding like the beating of a drum. He burst into the Oval Office a moment later.

The president was setting the last paper aside, and he looked up as Alfred burst in. For a moment, the nation just stayed there by the door, half doubled over with the exhaustion of running so hard. Then he stood up and closed the door. "Mr. President," Alfred gasped. "I have to talk to you."

POTUS remained seated behind the desk, looking at America expectantly. "About what, Alfred?"

The nation took a deep breath and stood up, then stepped closer to the desk. "About the missile that are being sold to England. Mr. President, you can't give any information about those missiles to Russia."

"Of course I can Alfred. This will help show the Russians that we mean what we say about slowing nuclear arms proliferation. It will help strengthen the START treaty."

"But the START treaty had nothing to do with England!" As upset over this as he was, Alfred was surprised that he was keeping such tight control on his emotions. By now he had expected he would be shouting. "That treaty was between me and Russia."

"But this will help strengthen the deal. Now Alfred, do you have anything else you wanted to mention to me?"

With a sick dread, America realized that POTUS would not be dissuaded and had decided the conversation was over. "No, Mr. President."

"Well, thanks for coming by Alfred, but I've already promised to give Russia the serial numbers of every Trident missile we give to Britain. I can't renege on that. Show yourself out, will you?"

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Alfred didn't remember running back through the halls of the White House. He didn't remember slamming into the Press Secretary, and he didn't remember not stopping to at least see if the man was alright. He didn't remember anything until he made it out of the back door of the White House and threw up in the bushes.

He retched again, and when his stomach was finally free of all of its contents, he realized the full extent of what the president was doing. England was going to hate him forever for this. He cursed the START treaty, and he cursed the revealing of secrets like these.

After resting there for a few minutes, he felt a little better and stood back, heading back towards his apartment. It was late and dark, and the more he walked, the more he began to feel sick again.

_England is going to hate me._

He made it back to his apartment, closed the door and fastened all three locks, then curled up on the couch in the living room and pulled out his phone.

Arthur at least deserved a heads up on what was coming.

He listened as the phone rang on the other end of the line, and finally was picked up. "Do you have any idea what time it is over here, git? You'd better have a bloody good reason for waking me at this time of night."

Alfred swallowed hard. 'Arthur, there's something you have to know…"

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**T.A.R.N.S.: **Allow me to offer my deepest, most sincerest apoligies to any Brits reading this. I saw the headline on the blog tonight and about died. In order to stregthen the START treaty, or something like that, now the current administration is going to give Russia the serial numbers of any missiles we give Great Britian. This... there are no words to describe this. Some people here may remember STARTing All Over Again, and this may be kind of a sequel, but I don't know.

I've cut out the middleman blog, which for the record in case you want to hit up Google, was Gateway Pundit again, and went straight to the U.K.'s Daily Telegraph. here is the article, remove spaces, etc. http : / (/) www (.) telegraph (.) co(.) uk / news / worldnews / wikileaks / 8304654 (/) WikiLeaks-cables-US-agrees-to-tell-Russia-Britains-nuclear-secrets (.) html#

Please review and let me know what you thought. Differing opinions are welcomed, but only if you're civil about it.


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